A Change of Face
by Turtle412
Summary: Following San Juan, Ward was left crumpled in his own blood. Skye had made it clear what she thought of him. But, as he was pulled out of the building and nursed back to health by a woman he'd promised to help find herself, his feelings begin to grow again. Starts during the ending moments of What They Become and continues until just before Love in the Time of Hydra.


The man groggily blinked as the light shone on his face from a window. He noted in his mind how at odds this was with the battle raging inside the building. He sprawled his hand across the ground underneath him, laying it flat next to his leg. He took a few seconds to prepare himself before trying to push himself up. A big mistake as he instantly felt a sharp pain across his side. His metal-padded jacket had saved his life, but the bullets had still pierced through. He slapped right back down against the wall, left in his miserable state once again. He rolled his head back, lidded eyes now staring at the roof.

His mind wandered to how he'd wound up in this position. _ He'd gotten free. He freed her hands and moved forward. His mind began formulating possible escape routes; planning their next move. He turned around and – BAM, BAM, BAM! His mind went into a frenzy. He couldn't even comprehend it. She'd shot him!? After all he'd sacrificed for her, after all his efforts to redeem himself, this was her answer!? 'Never turn your back on the enemy. You taught me that'. _

He internally groaned at the irony of it all. Suddenly, his blurry vision recognised a face in front of him. _Come to finish her student's job then. _It seemed all his former love interests wanted to emphasis their feelings towards him today.But, as his sight continued to refocus he saw who it truly was. She was pointing her gun at him, but he felt no danger. He instantly saw the confusion adorning her features. Slowly, she lowered her gun. She informed him Whitehall had died. His luck was turning as he now had a way out. Yet, he thought back to their earlier meeting. There were..._undeniable_ parallels between her relationship with Whitehall and his and Garrett's. Whitehall has turned her into his weapon, just as Garrett had to him. That's why he empathised with her, pitied her. So, that's why he – a manipulator and liar – meant it completely when he told her 'Help me up, I can get us out of here, and _we'll figure it all out_'.

Grant Ward was used to pain. It was part of being an agent – and Garrett's training. Cracked ribs, dislocations, stab wounds, bullet grazing, he'd fought through it all. But, this frigging hurt. At several points he felt like he was going to topple over. He pitied his new ally, who had to support his weight while trying to run along the street. Eventually, she slowed her pace to a walk; they'd reached their destination - a Hydra safe house that had been set-up once they learned San Juan was the destination. She glanced around her shoulder to ensure no one was around before helping Ward inside. From there, she wasted no time getting to work. She gently eased her injured associate onto the bed, and carefully removed his jacket. He let a frown emerge on his face when he saw just how blood soaked his shirt was. She was in the bathroom, and emerged with teasers, a towel, and a cup of hot water. 'It's ok,' she reassuringly began, 'I've done first aid'.

'Don't suppose you're actually a doctor though?' Ward uneasily enquired. She ignored this, kneeling down and rolled his shirt up. He let out a sharp gasp. He mediated on a spot on the wall as she got to work...

He awoke, slightly delirious at first. He turned his head to see the bullets on the desk, and his shirt crumpled up and thrown in the sink. He tried to prop himself up on his elbows but quickly fell back onto the mattress. The room was pitch dark. He reckoned it must still be late at night. He managed to crane his neck, eyeing her figure. She was dead to the world. Fatigue and tiredness had overcome her. By her position in the chair, she had been watching over him. He let out a quiet sigh as his head hit the pillow. This was a new chapter in his life. He'd achieved clarity during his imprisonment. He'd realised Garrett cared for him about as much as his family did. He'd waited, been chomping at the bit, for the time he'd get out, be free. He was finally _free. _He was his own man now, no longer following orders, no longer belonging to any side. And now, the next step of his journey was here. If he wasn't cautious of waking her, he would have laughed. It had all come full circle really. He found it and the suddenness of which it had come incredulous. Now, to this broken woman, he was going to have to become a _leader. _He decided to mull over it all another time. For now, he let himself fall back to sleep.

Come morning, she was awake. The former Hydra agent exerted some effort but still was unable to sit up. He let out a groan in agitation. 'You'll take a bit of time to heal.' he heard her digitized voice. He was about to make another effort despite that fact, when she came over. She had juice and some toast. She placed the breakfast on the desk and cautiously helped him sit up. He felt another dart of pain across his side but ignored it.

'Where's yours?' he asked. She looked at him in confusion. 'Where's your breakfast? You gotta eat'. She had that lost, apologetic look in her eyes. She replied dejectedly, unsure of herself. She insisted she was fine; that he was all that mattered. It was painful but he managed to edge out his hand to grasp hers. 'I'm not Whitehall,' he began, 'this is not a master-servant relationship. I'm going to help you out, ok? It's important we're both individuals in this and that we both keep our health up'. She shied away from the conviction in his eyes and kept the same lost look. But then, she got up and went to make herself some food.

They had eaten breakfast in companionable silence. Ward was still propped up in bed against the wall. They'd agreed that their first move would have to be to wait for him to recover. Now, they were sitting back watching TV, him trying to make small talk. He'd cracked a few barriers and gotten some talk from her, but she was still stilted and uneasy. It'd take time he noted but he was slowly opening her up. She was a rather attentive nurse, getting him water when he asked and regularly enquiring to how he felt. Other than that she spent her time stealing looks at him. He had no problem at first, until he noticed a somewhat embarrassing little predicament. 'My wallet's here in my back pocket. Help me up and I'll get it out. Then take it, and go buy me a new shirt. We can't have you looking at my abs all the time' he finished with a smirk. If it wasn't for the mask she would have most certainly broke out into a massive blush. She began heavily fidgeting. He began to regret how teasing he'd been. She was still very vulnerable; she didn't need his jesting and flirting. 'Hey, sorry. I'm not trying to make fun of you, I just feel things would be significantly more comfortable between us if we were both fully clothed'. She agreed, and then slowly went over to him and helped him up so he could get his wallet. In his discomfort he didn't notice, but his comment had brought his situation to her attention. Now, _she was staring, and by all accounts, enjoying the view. _

A few days had passed by uneventfully. His new ally – or, as he had joking begun refer to her as, Nurse 33 - was thawed considerably. While still full of self-doubt and unknowingness, she was now capable of maintaining a conversation with him and speaking up. She regularly bathed his wound for him and helped him doing anything he wished to the best of her ability. He was almost better, able to move around again and the pain was gone until he tried to do particularly strenuous activity. Soon, he thought, they'd be able to leave and begin their next play. Feeling selfish, he let her take the bed while he slept on the chair for that night. It took him a moment or two to get comfortable but he was able to find sleep, a good sign of his recovery in his mind.

'_Time to let you out' a voice cooed as the force field of his cage powered down. He took a moment to breath and then ran. He registered that he was back in the Playground but didn't really think about it, he just ran. As he ran down the corridors, his vision took in a window. 'Escape' a voice echoed in his head. He ran faster and jumped, crashing through the window. A parachute would have been handy, as he careered down through the sky. The wind ripped through each of his hairs, swiftly and roughly caressing his face. Suddenly through t he clouds ropes rose up to grab him. He tried to resist but soon he was knotted up, descending violently, flames surrounding him. Then he fell right the fire, and emerged in a hallway, his hands bound behind his back. With one strong tug, he broke free from his shackles as the room darkened. He turned around and BAM, BAM, BAM! Dread and fear overtook him as his shooter walked up to him. She sauntered with conviction, looking at him in disgust. 'Never turn your back on the enemy. You taught me that'. Instead of walking away, this time she raised her gun again, aiming right in-between his eyes. 'Goodbye, monster' and then - BAM!_

He awoke with a fright, letting out an almost inaudible shrill. He took a few moments to catch his breath, one hand resting against where she'd shot him. _This _woman who for so long had been a part of his most tranquil and loving dreams, was now the focus of one of his nightmares. It had been a while since he'd had one so wicked. He was brought out of his grief, when he heard movement. He'd awoken 33, to his frustration. She covered herself with the sheets in modesty as she began to get up and move towards him. 'Are you alright? I heard you, and you're up. Are you hurt? Is the chair uncomfortable? You can come back to bed...I mean I can go back to the chair, if you want...'

He smiled reassuringly. 'I'm fine 33 thanks. Just a silly dream'. She stared back at him, waiting for him to speak again. 'You don't have to worry about me. I'm ok. Just go back to sleep. I want to start planning where we'll go next tomorrow. I'm almost fit again'. She nodded slowly before turning around and heading back to bed. It took her another few minutes to get comfortable again. He just sat and watched her intently. Every one of her moves was slow; she was being dragged down by tiredness. But, Ward was enticed, seeing a certain slow grace to her. He stayed like that for a while after she'd falling asleep, admiring he resting figure. Eventually, he managed to hold in a yawn and then laid back in the chair. He still stared at her, focusing on her sleeping form as he nodded off to sleep. When he awoke the next morning, he was significantly more rested and content.

Very soon after that, he was right back to normal. He no longer felt any pain and was able to move around and exert himself freely again. This all came to a test immediately. Not wanting to waste anymore time, he and 33 raided a small Hydra base. Very simple, only just over half a dozen men were stationed there. He'd been quick to off two when he casually walked up to them and then slipped his knife into their necks. 33 followed suit, shooting down another three before they knew what was coming. Another one tried to put up a fight, striking at Ward. But, Garrett's former protégé was far more skilled and stronger. He easily countered the man and snapped his neck in one quick motion. The last one was the pilot of the plane. He quietly snuck behind Ward, steadying his aim. Before he could pull the trigger, the gun was yanked out of his hand and he was sent to the ground with a vicious hook kick across the head. 'I knew you were there by the way. The joys of having a partner to watch your back. Now, how about we get airborne?'

The flight wasn't the most comfortable due to the pilot's jitteriness. Any chance of his survival just burned up due to that. Luckily for the duo, there was a car at the landing spot, and they quickly shot the pair of Hydra agents attending the base. Ward was quick to loot the safe for money before they left. Ward sat back now, turning off the radio when there was nothing of interest on any station. 33 kept her eyes fixed on the road. He decided to speak, letting her in on where they went next. 'We'll find a nice hotel to stay at first. Nothing shabby, we'll be able to stay there for the foreseeable future. Then, we can get to work on fixing the mask.' He had to brace himself so he wouldn't bash his head off the dashboard when she braked suddenly. She looked back at him clearly not understanding what he said.

'I thought the mask was unfixable. Whitehall and the others at Hydra never said it could be fixed'.

'Well then, they lied. They didn't care enough about you to get it fixed. But, I know the scientist who made those masks. Garrett showed him to me once when they first started arriving at S.H.I.E.L.D. He should at least be able to do something with it. We'll find him. This'll be the first step to you finding yourself'.

She just gripped the wheel, unsure of what to say or do. But, she looked back at him. He could see determination behind her sunglasses. She fixed her gaze back on the right, before driving off again.

They'd managed to find a nice hotel in the town where the masks' creator resided. It was a rather nice room. It would be a perfect home for the time being. They left the room quickly after checking in so as to buy clothes and what-not. 33 in particular liked a few suits Ward had picked up for himself, hoping to get to see him in them soon. They'd started tracking their target, planning where and when they'd grab him. But for now, they decided to sit back and get some peace for a while. They enjoyed each others' company and had a nice chat. Currently, he was lying down on the bed while she watched some soap. Such a program bared no interest to him. He was just happy to lie back for a while. He watched her as she paid attention to her show. He let an honest smile form on his lips. He took a moment to reflect on the past couple of days. She was truly a remarkable woman. At these thoughts, he was forced to recollect one of Garrett's old stories. Something about another agent, and rebounds or something. Knowing him, it probably involved a crap-ton of gunfire and explosions. But, the reason he remembered it was that it involved the old saying, 'You meet the worst people on the rebound'. But, as he sat back looking at her he disagreed. He'd have to give it time. She was still lost and needed time before she'd be able to properly be herself and commit to something more intimate with him. But, he was willing to wait and give her that time. He was officially moved on from Skye. _She'd made it abundantly clear what she thought of him and his advances. _But, now he'd met someone _beautiful. _


End file.
